vegas
Sunning, swimming, sneaking people-watching behind sunglasses. Fake white-sand beach and fake waves, but the Nevada sun is blazing and real and reminds me of childhood.
Two blond siblings in the water; the elder possesses a strikingly aquiline profile, the profile of a marble statue on the face of a teenage girl, lovely and conscious of it, striving to remain poised and adult while her younger brother, full of mischief, splashes and nimbly tumbles through the water around her. Young Hispanic girl swims past, all huge brown eyes and dimples and rounded sweetness, into the arms of her waiting father. A couple in the distance, neck-deep: a woman and a man, cocooned into each other's arms. She's smiling up at him with genuine tenderness. Tall black woman wades in, elegant and model-thin with her hair up, a tension to her slender limbs. Two lifeguards in red trunks drape themselves across surfboards at the deep end, tanned and muscular like lounging lions.
Dozing on a reclining beach chair, I watch a Japanese family of four arrive and settle themselves in front of me. The centerpiece of the family is clearly the mother: a slight, petite woman in a long sundress and a wide-brimmed sun hat, her hair cut fashionably short. Her eyes are large, moon-shaped and limpid. Her other features are tiny and doll-like.
She's pale pale pale like the moon. Her face is pristine and weary. Small tired lines around her mouth which never smiles. When I was seventeen, I went back to Korea, and found the shops full of lotions meant to lighten your skin. Dark skin means that you're a peasant who works in the rice paddies.
She sheds her sundress to reveal a tasteful designer swimsuit beneath. The colors match her hat. Of course they do.
The father is bespectacled and amiable. He busies himself applying sunscreen to his wife and their two small girl children. His wife pays no attention to him as he meticulously rubs sunscreen into her back; he may as well not be there. She's looking around, frowning slightly, as if something's out of place and she doesn't quite know what.
The two children look like me at that age - long wild black hair, black button eyes, button noses, limbs burnt deep brown from the southwestern sun. Tiny brown bear cubs posing as children. One of them coaxes her mother into a game of patty-cake. The woman sits and plays patiently, albeit without enthusiasm. At the end of the game, the corners of her mouth lift slightly -- a hint of white teeth.
Two blond siblings in the water; the elder possesses a strikingly aquiline profile, the profile of a marble statue on the face of a teenage girl, lovely and conscious of it, striving to remain poised and adult while her younger brother, full of mischief, splashes and nimbly tumbles through the water around her. Young Hispanic girl swims past, all huge brown eyes and dimples and rounded sweetness, into the arms of her waiting father. A couple in the distance, neck-deep: a woman and a man, cocooned into each other's arms. She's smiling up at him with genuine tenderness. Tall black woman wades in, elegant and model-thin with her hair up, a tension to her slender limbs. Two lifeguards in red trunks drape themselves across surfboards at the deep end, tanned and muscular like lounging lions.
Dozing on a reclining beach chair, I watch a Japanese family of four arrive and settle themselves in front of me. The centerpiece of the family is clearly the mother: a slight, petite woman in a long sundress and a wide-brimmed sun hat, her hair cut fashionably short. Her eyes are large, moon-shaped and limpid. Her other features are tiny and doll-like.
She's pale pale pale like the moon. Her face is pristine and weary. Small tired lines around her mouth which never smiles. When I was seventeen, I went back to Korea, and found the shops full of lotions meant to lighten your skin. Dark skin means that you're a peasant who works in the rice paddies.
She sheds her sundress to reveal a tasteful designer swimsuit beneath. The colors match her hat. Of course they do.
The father is bespectacled and amiable. He busies himself applying sunscreen to his wife and their two small girl children. His wife pays no attention to him as he meticulously rubs sunscreen into her back; he may as well not be there. She's looking around, frowning slightly, as if something's out of place and she doesn't quite know what.
The two children look like me at that age - long wild black hair, black button eyes, button noses, limbs burnt deep brown from the southwestern sun. Tiny brown bear cubs posing as children. One of them coaxes her mother into a game of patty-cake. The woman sits and plays patiently, albeit without enthusiasm. At the end of the game, the corners of her mouth lift slightly -- a hint of white teeth.